


my brother, his lover, and me

by phonecallfromgod



Category: The Social Network (2010)
Genre: Coming Out, Dramatic Irony, Gen, M/M, Mistaken Identity, POV Outsider, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28355163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phonecallfromgod/pseuds/phonecallfromgod
Summary: Tyler has been very politely waiting for Cameron to come out to him for years and he’s getting a little sick of pretending not to know. Especially now that Cam’s actually ventured into the dating scene.While Tyler waits on that he’ll just have to settle for getting the inside scoop from his new friend Divya, who just so happens to have a lot of advice on dealing with this very situation.These two facts are, of course, entirely unrelated.
Relationships: Divya Narendra/Cameron Winklevoss, Tyler Winklevoss & Cameron Winklevoss, Tyler Winklevoss & Divya Narendra
Comments: 15
Kudos: 25





	my brother, his lover, and me

“Hey,” Cameron says, leaning in the doorway to Tyler’s room, “I’m gonna go catch that author talk with Michael Chabon at Memorial Hall.” 

“Hmm,” Tyler says, only half looking up from where he’s watching the second half of _Goodfellas_ and trying to will himself through another portion of chicken cacciatore. “Okay, have fun.” 

“He wrote that book I did my Contemporary Lit final on,” Cam continues unnecessarily, “ _Kavalier & Clay_?” 

“Oh, mhmm,” Tyler says, purposefully keeping his eyes glued to the screen and his voice as disinterested as possible. 

“I might, you know, it’s possible I might grab a drink after. If I see any friends there. Not that I’m— not that I’m meeting anyone there, but I know some people from that class who were thinking of going and they might be there. Or they might not.” 

“Okay, cool.” Jesus Christ, Tyler can smell his date cologne from here. 

“Uh, well see you later then.” 

Tyler finally looks away from the screen then, dishing up his best look of cheerful disinterest, “Alright Cam, have a good night.” 

Cameron’s mouth works soundlessly for a moment, like he’s chewing a huge invisible wad of gum, before he says, “Uh, you too,” and backs away slowly, like he’s trying not to startle a small animal. 

Tyler waits until the door shuts behind Cameron to let out an exhausted sigh. “Jesus fuck, do I look _that_ stupid,” he mutters to no one in particular and goes back to sawing through his dining hall cacattoire.

“Ah shit,” Tyler mutters to himself, digging impatiently through his bag a second time even though he knows his pencil case is sitting uselessly on the desk back at his dorm. Despite years of crew training Tyler still isn’t at his best at five in the morning, and Wednesday mornings mean bringing everything with him unless he wants to make a super unnecessary trip back to the dorms before his 10 am. He’d been riding high on the newfound victory that was having a free hour and a half between second breakfast and class this semester, which meant that maybe _maybe_ he’d free up some time for social stuff in the evenings. Only being available for breakfast dates last semester had put a pretty serious dent into his dating game. But now he was brought low by the reality of having nothing to write with for an entire block of classes. 

“Hey,” Tyler says, lowering his voice, leaning forward and tapping the guy in the row in front of him on the shoulder. He’s gotta stretch a bit because he’s four seats down from Tyler, but he’s the only person within arms reach. “Do you have a pen I could borrow?” 

The guy turns, his dark eyebrows shooting up in surprise, startling more than Tyler had expected. Cameron’s always been more careful about that kind of thing, the way you can be intimidating without even trying when you’re 6’5” and spend six hours a day working out. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah. Sure,” the guy says when he composes himself, digging around in his own bag for a second before coming up with a click grip pen like the kind Cam buys obsessively. 

“Thanks man,” he says, accepting the pen from where the guy’s holding it out delicately in two fingers. Tyler slumps back into his own seat, which gives an unease-inspiring groan, but manages to hold through the rest of the syllabus lecture about office hours and extra credit opportunities. Tyler marks them down dutifully in his planner as everyone starts packing up when the prof wraps class early, before leaning over to give the guy in the other row his pen back. 

“Hey, thanks again,” Tyler says, but the guy waves him off. 

“Keep it,” the guy says. “I got a million.” 

“You sure? It’s a nice pen.” 

The guy laughs. “Yeah, no big. You can owe me one if it’ll help you sleep at night, er—” 

“Tyler Winklevoss,” he says, extending a hand. 

The guy’s grip is shockingly firm and confident. “Divya,” he says, last name noticeably withdrawn. 

“Well thanks for the pen, Divya.” 

Divya gives a good-natured shrug, any intimidation from earlier clearly having quickly worn off. “I’m just trying to get on your good side.” 

Tyler’s still mostly out of breath from a pre-dinner run on the ergometer (they have 2K Erg Tests coming up and he is _determined_ to get his personal best down) when his phone lights up with a call from Cameron. 

“Hey,” he half says, half wheezes. 

“Hi,” Cameron says, and Tyler can tell from his tone already where this is going. “You uh, you have class tonight, right?” 

“Yeah, same as every Thursday.” 

“Ha, right. Right.” 

There’s a long brittle pause and Tyler resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose like their dad always does when he’s disappointed in one of them. “Was that it?” he tries finally, trying to let Cam off the hook. Sweat is dripping into his eyes and all Tyler wants to do is shower and eat before he has to spend three hours in a marketing lecture. 

“Yup, yeah, just checking in,” Cam says with unconvincing lightness. “I’ll see you later then.” 

“Sure, see you later,” Tyler agrees, and mentally notes that he should take the long way home from his lecture, just to give whoever Cam’s bringing back to the dorm an extra fifteen minutes to get decent and get gone. 

Tyler’s stretching his legs during their mid-class break a few weeks into the semester, debating over the vending machine selection of snacks, trying to decide what would fuck with his diet the _least_ when he overhears Divya on the phone on the other side of the hallway. 

“—Well if it was in before midnight than it should still count,” Divya is saying into his Blackberry. “Uh, huh. But if it’s in the _syllabus_ —” 

Tyler punches in his selection, ripping open the bag of pretzels with his teeth as he makes his way towards Divya, who’s engrossed in whatever conversation he’s having, a hand pressed tightly to his forehead. 

“ _Honey_ ,” he says exasperatedly, “you are way overthinking it. Just walk over and talk to your professor. Again, if it’s in the syllabus, then— you’re paying to be here, why would it be a problem?” 

Tyler pops another pretzel in his mouth, trying to give off the vague air that he’s waiting to get Divya’s attention without being too overbearing about it. But he must have missed the mark because when Divya finally looks up to see him standing there, he immediately startles and rushes out, “Look I have to go. Class is starting again. Okay? Okay.” into his phone and hangs up. 

“Sorry dude,” Tyler says, clearing his throat. “You didn’t have to rush through that on my behalf.” 

“It’s fine,” Divya says coolly but not unkindly. “Did you need something?

“Yeah, did you want my notes from last week? I noticed you weren’t here and I always type mine up.” He slings his bag off his shoulder and rummages around until he finds the folder he’d slipped an extra copy of his notes into. He figures one good turn deserves another, and making friends in his classes has always been a worthwhile investment. 

Divya looks legitimately touched as he accepts the notes. “Thanks, that’s— that’s really thoughtful of you.” 

Tyler smirks, tossing back the last of his pretzels, “I’m just trying to get on your good side.” 

A few days later, Tyler comes home from another gym date with Michael Bodrocker to find Cameron’s trying very hard to wear a hole through the boards of their dorm floor as he paces back and forth 

“What’s wrong?” Tyler asks, pushing his headband off his forehead and shoving it into his coat pocket. 

“Nothing,” Cameron says, which is such an insulting lie that Tyler half considers turning on his heel and heading right back out the door and letting him get away with it. 

But he’s not feeling that much like a jerk today so he just sighs and says, “You wanna try that again?” 

The floor squeaks under Cameron as he comes to a halt. He hasn’t even bothered to style his hair and it’s well into the afternoon, which is as good a sign as any that this is actually serious. Cam may be prone to fits of melodrama and weird insistence on invisible social rules that were practically made to be broken, if you ask one Tyler Howard Winklevoss about it, but the distress on his face is way more than any minor social snafu would warrant. 

Tyler watches Cameron struggle to get out the words for a moment before he finally bursts out with, “The dinner reservation I made a _month_ ago just got cancelled.” 

“What?” Tyler says. “Why?” 

“Apparently there was a scheduling conflict and—does it even matter!? There’s no reservation now and I can’t get anything half as nice on two days’ notice..” 

If Tyler were almost anyone else he’d probably at least _ask_ what the reservation is for, but he won’t, because this is the part where having an identical twin gets complicated. When so much communication between them is unspoken, how is he supposed to know what is and isn’t secret? Tyler’s known for years that Cam’s gay, and he’s relevatively certain that Cam knows that he knows, but since Cameron has never actually _indicated_ that he knows that Tyler knows, Tyler’s been stuck in unacknowledgement limbo since high school. Which is frustrating, sure, but it’s been the status quo for so long that Tyler’s long since grown accustomed to expertly swerving around topics of dating when it comes to Cameron. 

But that was before six months ago when Cameron went out and got a boyfriend. 

Not that he’s ever indicated this fact to Tyler, but c’mon, he’s got a brain behind his handsome face, and while Tyler can—very generously—admit that this development in Cameron’s romantic life might be completely undetectable to the average person, Tyler is far from a casual passive observer of his brother’s life.

So now Cam is spending an absurd amount of time and energy on his secret relationship and it’s becoming increasingly difficult for Tyler to pretend that he’s unaware of this fact. Up to and including pretending to be entirely disinterested about what Cameron would even need a fancy dinner reservation for, a completely coincidental six months after he started slipping out of the dorm to take phone calls and having a social calendar that Tyler was completely unprivy to. Dates marked on their shared calendar with little mystery stars that weren’t for Porc events or rowing practice. 

It’s not like Cameron had been living like a monk before that or anything. There’d even been one memory-repressingly-horrible incident where Tyler had come back to their sophomore dorm a little too early and heard a little bit too much, but this last six months has been different. Cameron had memorized Tyler’s schedule as thoroughly as his own, though he often claimed ignorance of this fact to _just double check Tyler wouldn’t be in their dorm_. Honestly it was all just getting a little exhausting, but he’s really trying to be cool with letting Cam tell him things when he’s ready. 

Which is why—and Tyler really should be recommended for sainthood for this—instead of asking the kind of follow-ups any normal brother prone to meddling wouldn’t think twice about interrogating Cam over, he just sighs and says, “Let me see if I can pull some strings.” 

It only takes about forty five minutes for Tyler to track down a Phoenix club connection whose girlfriend works as a hostess somewhere suitably upscale for Cameron’s first ever six-month anniversary. Not that he’s called it anything remotely approaching that, but Tyler was more than a little surprised when Cam admitted he needed a reservation for two and that a table Tyler’s contact’s girlfriend, a delightful soprano from _The Opportones_ named Bridget, described as ‘intimate’ would work perfectly, thank you. 

“You’re a lifesaver,” Cameron says, head still cradled in his hands when Tyler gets off his string-can telephone call with Trenton who had Bridget on his other line. 

“Anytime,” Tyler says, and then waits, maybe a little stupidly, hoping that maybe, just maybe, his immense show of selfless brotherly love will result in Cameron finally looking up and letting him in on his secret. 

He tries not to care when instead Cam just sighs and tips back his head on the top of the couch, tension melting from his body and leaving him boneless for a moment before he mutters some excuse about needing to call a group project partner back about meeting times. 

It's not until later that Tyler considers for the first time that maybe Cam’s absolute lack of any explanation for why he’d need an intimate dinner reservation for two was more calculated than he’d given Cameron credit for. 

Unfortunately, there’s not really anything Tyler can do to test this theory. Or at least not until the universe throws an unconscious Divya-from-Film-History-223 into his path. Tyler’s browsing around for a prime spot in the library after rowing practice when he finds Divya slumped over in one of the study carrels. The takeout coffee cups around him painting a pretty clear picture of an all-nighter. 

“Hey,” Tyler says, rapping his knuckles on the desk. “Rise and shine, dude.” 

Divya blinks and squints up at Tyler, more warm than he’s expecting. “Hi you,” Divya says groggily. 

“Good morning to you too,” Tyler replies, not bother to cover his snort, and taking a half step back when Divya’s eyes go wide and he suddenly bolts upright. 

“Tyler!? Shit, hi,” he says, frantically scrambling his discarded papers and textbooks together, tipping over an empty coffee cup and lunging after it before it goes rolling off the desk. 

If Tyler was Cameron he’d politely avert his eyes while a casual acquaintance struggled to make himself decent, but Tyler’s a firm believer in the bonding power of a little old-fashioned embarrassment. So instead he just crosses his arms, raises his eyebrows and asks, “You good?” 

“Fine, fine,” Divya says, stretching his back which crackles like ice in a glass of coke. “What the hell are you doing here so early—or, oh. You just left crew. Duh.” 

Tyler blinks. “How did you know I was at crew practice?” He rifles through his mental catalogue of their interactions, trying to remember a time when he would have brought it up, but nothing rises to the surface. 

Divya just turns back to his notes and waves a vague hand. “Look at you, of course you row crew.” 

Which is. Is weird right? But he’s not _wrong_ so it’s not like Tyler can contradict him, so he just lets it drop. Maybe he wore a crew sweater to class and forgot or something (though he tends not to because he knows a lot of the professors tend to be a bit wary of the academic integrity of varsity athletes). He’s always preferred to keep that in his back pocket until he’s proven that he deserves a spot here just as much as anyone else. But Divya seems unfazed by it at least, so he doesn’t dwell. 

“Long night?” Tyler offers instead. Divya snorts and gives him a look like _yeah no shit_. 

“I have four classes back to back to back on Wednesday,” he says. “So if everything’s coming due at the same time—” 

“—You get a day from hell,” Tyler finishes, “I get it.” He’d had three back to back classes Tuesday/Thursday starting with an 8:30 am his freshman year, and ever since then he’s been hyper vigilant about getting his schedule in order early to avoid the crush.

“You’d think I’d know better, but I needed to squeeze in another arts credit and keep my Thursday nights free so,” Divya gestures halfheartedly at the mess of his study carrel. “We’re doing this.” 

“Oof.” 

“It’s not as bad as it looks. I just need to edit an essay and proofread a group project and I’ll look at my midterm flash cards between classes and—” 

“Have you eaten yet?” Tyler interjects, because Cameron gets like this sometimes, endurance training functioning like blinders, and the key to avoiding a meltdown in those scenarios tends to be food. 

Divya gives Tyler another incredulous look, but there’s less protesting than Tyler expects to get him bundled into a coffee shop on the edge of campus that serves overpriced breakfast wraps and bottomless cups of coffee. Especially after Tyler offers to pay _and_ look over Divya’s film history essay while he plows through a veggie omelette and homefries. 

“So you’re uh, really into music,” Tyler says once he’s knee-deep in Divya’s essay on the history of musical accompaniment for films before talking pictures. 

“I’m a music minor,” Divya says, covering his full mouth with the back of his hand. “Honestly, it was just tactical so I could overlap sources with my Modernism class.” 

“Ahh,” Tyler says confidently, and goes back to attempting to edit Divya’s paper. “You never met a semi-colon you didn’t like, huh?” 

“Piss off,” Divya says, not bothering to cover his mouth that time. 

Despite having already eaten before and after crew, the smell of freshly cooked breakfast is more than tempting, so Tyler ducks up to the counter to order himself a little something while Divya leafs back through Tyler’s edits, his own pen poised in hand. There’s a pretty short-haired girl at a booth near the counter staring at him, and Tyler gives her a little nod of acknowledgement while he waits for his food. 

It’s not like he’s expecting her to swoon or blush (though it’s been known to happen from time to time), but he’s a little caught off guard when her face goes stony and she leans across the table and starts whispering to the two other people, one guy and one girl, she’s sitting with. Tyler can feel their eyes on him as he makes his way back through the cafe to where Divya is looking fresh as a daisy compared to how Tyler found him this morning. 

“Aren’t you supposed to have a super regulated diet or something?” Divya asks, sipping his tea delicately. 

“What, are you gonna tattle to my brother about it?” Tyler snorts, pushing Divya’s essay out of harm’s way as he grabs for the hot sauce. “It’s poached eggs and rye toast, this is practically hospital food.”

“Careful, that shit’s actually hot, you gonna clear your sinuses too?” 

“It’s good for me,” Tyler says, and then adds another splash of hot sauce to be petty. Divya turns out to be right, but Tyler’s not one to back down from a challenge so he just tries to sop up some of it with his toast and changes the subject. Which isn’t hard when the trio from that booth are still glaring at Tyler like he ran over their grandmothers. Or their cats. Or their grandmothers’ cats. 

Or no. Hold on. They’re not glaring at _him_. 

“Uh, Divya?” 

“Mhmm?” he doesn’t look up from his essay, scrawling out something intensely.

“Do you know those people?” Tyler jerks his head in the direction of the booth and Divya looks lazily over his shoulder and then turns back so quickly Tyler can feel his chiropractor wince. 

“ _My ex is over there_ ,” Divya hisses. “Fucking shit.” 

“Ah,” Tyler says. He takes it as a point of pride that his only serious ex-girlfriend and himself parted on excellent terms and he’s never been anything but totally upfront with Porcellian dates and the occasional overnight guest. As such, his reviews in the dating department are pretty good, but not _everyone_ can have such a sterling reputation so he’s not unsympathetic to the growing tension in Divya’s shoulders. 

“Goddammit,” he mutters to himself gathering up his papers and starting to shove things back into his satchel. “Just fantastic.” 

“Dude, relax. You’re allowed to be here,” Tyler says. 

“Not according to _them_ ,” he says, annoyance crackling into genuine distress. “Christ.” 

Tyler’s swallowing another forkful of eggs, on the heels of what is going to be a Cameron-tested de-escalation tactic, when the guy from the group gets up from the booth and starts to make his way through the busy cafe towards their table. 

“ _Don’t say anything_ ,” Divya hisses, leaning forward, eyes wild and intense before he leans back into his chair as the guy, lanky with a lip piercing and dark hair, arrives at the edge of their table. 

“Hey Div,” he says, injecting an almost impressive amount of disdain into only two syllables. “Long time no see.” 

Despite his earlier panic Divya is managing a pretty decent poker face of detached annoyance. “Are we really doing this Jay? I didn’t come over to your table and bother you during your breakfast.” 

“See, the Mister Nice and Reasonable act would have played a lot better before you _cheated_ ,” Jay says, voice full of faux-exuberence. “You don’t get to take the high road on this one. Especially not when you brought your golden retriever with you.” 

“I’m sure you think you’re defending someone’s honour here, but this is really fucking unncessary bro,” Tyler says evenly.

“ _Don’t help_ ,” Divya snaps at him, which is _majorly_ unfair. It’s not like he’s the one ruining their totally nice morning. 

“Gee Divya, thought you had your dog better trained than that,” Jay says and then puts his stupid weirdly clammy hand on Tyler’s cheek, which is enough to make him flinch even before Jay gets right in his face and says, “Down boy.” 

Tyler’s on his feet so quickly the artfully mismatched vintage chair he’d been sitting on goes toppling behind him, drawing the attention of several other cafe patrons. Good. Tyler doesn’t mind having an audience. 

“I don’t know what your problem is, but touch me again and we’re gonna go outside to solve it,” Tyler says in a low dangerous voice. 

“I—” Jay says, looking far more surprised than anyone who willingly put himself in the face of someone with half a foot and at least sixty pounds on him really has the right to be. His mouth opens uselessly a couple of times before he finally glances over his shoulder and whines out, “ _Div_ ya.” 

“Alright Winklevoss, calm down,” Divya says. “No one’s taking anything outside. Jay, go sit the fuck down before you cause another scene. He’s finishing his eggs and then we’re going, alright?” 

Jay shoots one last nasty look between the two of them, but the fight has clearly been knocked out of him, and he retreats back to the booth with no further melodrama. 

“Breakfast _and_ a show,” Tyler says cheerfully to the cafe at large, trying to defuse the last of the tension and getting a few awkward laughs in return. That’s a page out of Cameron’s book, and it at least mostly seems to work, everyone going back to their coffees and pastries as Tyler picks his chair off the floor. 

“Sorry about that,” Divya says, when Tyler’s finished his half-cold, overly hot-sauced eggs and they’re headed back to the library so Divya can copy edit and print his essay before class

“Let me guess,” Tyler says, adjusting his headband against the February chill that’s blowing through campus. “That’s your ex’s new guy.” 

“Not exactly,” Divya says and then after a calculated sort of pause, “That was my ex.” 

Oh. 

“ _Oh_ ,” Tyler says. 

“Mhmm,” Divya agrees. 

“Huh.” 

It’s wild with how much time Tyler devotes to Cam being gay and all that entails that he never really spends much time considering the fact that there are other gay people roaming around Harvard. Of course he knows there are, you know, logistically, but it’s not something he thinks about much outside of the realm of Cameron. Very occasionally he’ll see some guys from the theatre department or a girl with a certain kind of haircut and he’ll take it as sort of a given, but with the general population it’s just not really something that crosses his mind. 

Damn, maybe he should work on that.

He also maybe shouldn’t have been silent this long, because that’s probably giving off the entirely wrong message to Divya, who Tyler was really trying to move from the acquaintance-from-class to the actual-friend category. Especially now that they’ve had some truly bondable experience together. So Tyler goes for the obvious. 

“Well good fucking riddance, you’re better off without him. What kind of person just comes up and touches strangers on the _face_.” 

Divya lets out a relieved little huff of laughter. “Yeah he’s uh. Always had a flair for the dramatic.” 

“Should have let me take him out back.” 

“I mean, I’ll cut him some slack. To be fair I was kind of the asshole in that break-up.” 

“Oh?” 

Divya gives a shrug that’s almost more a shoulder roll. “Yeah I didn’t exactly—I didn’t _cheat_ on him, whatever he wants to say there was no actual cheating. But it wasn’t you know, entirely kosher. There’s a reason he got all our mutual friends in the break up.” 

Tyler’s nodding in a way he feels is entirely non-judgmental, and honestly he’s not looking for more details than that, but Divya runs a hand through his hair and then starts talking faster, more emotionally. “Like, yes did I _technically_ not break it off with Jay before I started seeing another guy? Yeah okay, kind of. But we’d only been seeing each other for like, ten days, we weren’t anything official, he was out of town, _and_ he wasn’t answering my calls. What was I supposed to do? Tell my _Dream Guy_ who showed up on my doorstep, and poured his heart out to me what, exactly? That I’d need to get back to him in a few business days? Fuck off.” 

“Anyways,” Divya shakes his head like he’s trying to clear his thoughts, rubbing a tired hand over his face. “Why am I telling you this? I suppose I can’t ask you not to think I’m a horrible person?” 

Tyler snorts. “Puh-lease. My mom was engaged to my dad’s _boss_ when they first met, now _that’s_ complicated.” 

Divya’s eyebrows crease together. “I’m sorry your mom was _engaged to your dad’s boss_!?” 

“I know, crazy right,” Tyler says, rummaging around in his coat pocket until he finds a tin of Altoids, offering one to Divya who shakes his head, before popping three into his mouth and crunching them loudly. “But the heart wants what the heart wants, right? Sometimes everyone else just has to stand back.” 

“Yeah,” Divya says thoughtfully, pushing through the turnstile back into the library, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

Here’s what Tyler Howard Winklevoss, Esquire, has managed to put together about Cameron’s mystery secret boyfriend. 

1\. He definitely exists (as evidenced by Cam’s incredibly obvious attempts to hide this fact)

2\. He _probably_ goes to Harvard (as evidenced by how little Cameron gets off campus)

3\. He _might_ smoke (as evidenced by that random plastic lighter that Tyler inexplicably found under their couch the other week) 

4\. He apparently is some kind of absolute _freak_ who buys strawberry daiquiri flavoured condoms (as evidenced by the horrifying half-empty box Tyler just found while looking in Cam’s drawer for a better tie to wear to dinner with their older siblings)

“ _Cameron what the fresh hell_ ,” Tyler hisses to himself, quickly shoving the box back behind the pile of socks it had been hiding under and grabbing for a tie at random —which turns out to be a Harvard crest tie that Tyler not only would never have chosen but had mocked Cam for wearing within recent memory. He’s not the only one who remembers; Cameron’s eyebrows raising in silent consideration from where he’s styling his hair in the mirror. 

“Hey, I need all the help I can get keeping Hunter off my back,” Tyler says, and it’s true enough that having a brother with a literal decade of experience on them means that Hunter does have a tendency to treat them more like the eight year olds they were when he left for college, and less like the bright young men of Harvard they’ve spent years busting their asses to be. 

Flavoured condom confrontation avoided, Tyler extends the goodwill both by letting Cameron drive to the restaurant _and_ letting him pick the music. It’s the same place Tyler had snagged the last-minute reservation for Cam, and he lets Cameron go find their table while he spends five minutes making nice with Bridget by the hostess stand. The idea nags slowly in the back of his mind that she might know who Cam came to dinner with the other night and while it wasn’t an introduction, maybe Tyler could reverse engineer something a little more hopeful out of Cameron’s boyfriend than a possible-smoker from probably-Harvard who thought flavoured condoms were somehow a good idea and not a crime against humanity. But that feels like the absolute worst kind of cheating, so after an appropriate amount of slightly over-exaggerated gratitude he leaves her with his calling card and follows after Cam. 

“Oh, there he is!” Laura gushes, jumping to her feet and pulling him down for a hug once he’s within arms reach, her cherry-cola coloured hair getting right in his mouth in her excitement. “Sit down, sit down. Oh my god you both look so handsome in your _suits_.” 

“Nice tie, Ty,” Hunter says, clasping his shoulder when Tyler finds his chair, and Cameron catches Tyler’s eye over his menu and it’s like having a direct line to Cam’s brain; _Alright you had a point_. 

“A little school spirit never hurt anyone,” Tyler shrugs. “Are you telling me Julia hasn’t bought a million Notre Dame onesies yet for the baby?” 

“I held her back after the first dozen,” Hunter says, adjusting his glasses in a way that seems way too elderly for a thirty-one year-old so he can peer down at the drink menu. “I could get a bottle of something for the table, I’m sure they won’t card you if I order it.” 

“Hunt, they’re legal now,” Laura says. 

Hunter squints. “No, aren’t you— you’re twenty, right?” 

“Nope, twenty-one,” Cameron says good-naturedly. 

“How can you never remember that!? It’s way easier for you to do the math, you just have to think of how old you are and take ten away. I’m _seven_ years older, that's way more awkward.”

“Sorry, my wife is in her second trimester and I work full time, there’s a lot on my mind,” Hunter says, putting his menu down and holding his hands up in defeat. 

“It’s so thoughtful of you to offer, though,” Cam says, always eager to smooth over a social indiscretion, though Tyler knows he’s as bemused by the situation as he is. “Oh Laur, I had the sea bass last time I was here and it was fantastic, if you’re curious.” 

Laura, who had announced herself pescatarian last Christmas (only _after_ their mom had spent two days preparing both a turkey and a ham), lights up at that. She’s always been off on her own decidedly non-picket-fence-inclined path with her comic-book red hair and her three college major changes and running off to Iceland for a two-year geology research position, which had turned into staying in Iceland longterm when she met her boyfriend Tomas. Tyler’s always respected that Laura’s never shied away from doing her own thing, and frankly it was a nice counterbalance to Hunter who had gotten married the summer after college graduation, bought a house with a literal picket fence (thanks to a down payment wedding gift from dear old dad), and currently had baby number one of two-point-five on the way. 

Laura however, seems less interested in the sea bass recommendation than immediately reading into Cameron having already eaten here. “When were you here before? With mom and daddy?” 

“Just social things. You know, final club networking stuff,” Cameron says with the same air of forced nonchalance he does every Thursday when he just _double checks_ that Tyler has his three hour lecture. 

Tyler feels Laura’s eyes swing to him curiously, but he doesn’t flinch, “Oh yeah, the hostess I was talking to, Bridget, her boyfriend’s in another club, they do a ton of stuff here.” 

“Mhmm,” Laura says, sounding unconvinced but turning her sights on Tyler instead. “So what about you? Any special social outings? Maybe with a special lady?” 

“What special lady do I need besides you?” 

“You’re the worst,” Laura says. “Aren’t girls supposed to be like, lining up to date Harvard guys?” 

“With what free time?” Tyler says, feeling like he’s suddenly flipped scripts with Cameron, who instead of jumping in to list their many academic and athletic commitments, is instead being oddly silent. Like, c’mon dude, at least _pretend_ like you’re single. 

“Hello, who do you think ran Hunter’s social calender all through college? It was Julia.”

“Hurtful,” Hunter interjects, not looking up from the menu. 

“We’ve just gotta find you some nice, smart, life-together kinds of girls. Right, Cam?” 

Cam’s defensive mode seems to have finally kicked on because he takes a sip from his water glass and says, “Who was just complaining to me at Christmas that mom wouldn’t get off your back about you and Tomas getting married? What happened to _that_ Laura.” 

“Well…” Laura says, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, “Actually, that’s kind of the reason I came home for a bit. And I wanted to tell you three first because I know that once I tell mom that’s opening up like, forty-six cans of worms buuuuuuut—” 

Somehow it should be anticlimactic for Laura to pull an engagement ring out of her purse, but until she does it Tyler’s brain is still functioning on the assumption that she’s yanking them around a little bit and her exciting announcement is going to be about getting another cat or maybe _maybe_ buying a house. Because this is _Laura_ , who dyed her hair with blue Kool-Aid for Country Club dances and who came back from summer camp with an infected safety pin cartilage piercing. Not Laura, whose Icelandic boyfriend was never supposed to ask their parents for Nana’s engagement ring at Christmas so they can get _married_ in Connecticut this summer. 

Tyler darts a glance at Cam as they’re all hugging and congratulating her, Hunter waving over a server so he can order champagne, hoping he’s doing a better job keeping his feelings off his face than Cameron is. Though Cam manages to break through with a convincing enough smile anytime Laura or Hunter is looking directly at him. 

Luckily for both of them, Laura and Hunter are excitedly breaking down wedding plans and then shifting gears to talk about Hunter’s impending mini-Winklevoss, so neither Tyler nor Cameron really have to add much to the conversation, heads down and sawing through identical plates of rib-eye. Nodding and _mhmm_ ing in all the appropriate places. 

It only hits Tyler later, when the check is being settled and Hunter has stepped outside to take a call from Julia, that he’s the only Winklevoss sibling left who doesn’t have someone. And even if Cameron’s secret boyfriend is a very, very different story than Laura’s fiance or Hunter’s wife, it still stings a little to look up and realize the race he hadn’t even noticed starting was already over. 

“You okay Ty?” Laura says, pulling her gloves out of her coat pocket, “You’ve been kind of quiet.” 

“A gentleman knows when not to upstage a lady,” he says melodramatically, pulling her ungloved hand up to his mouth to kiss. She pulls it away and swats him gently on the cheek with the glove she was holding in her other hand. 

“You’re full of it.” 

“It’s just, I honestly didn’t really think you were that interested in you know. Big white wedding,” Tyler relents a bit, knowing that if he doesn’t at least give her _something_ she won’t drop it. It’s always been Cam’s move more than his, letting someone catch you in a moment of weakness to make them feel like they’re in control, when really you’ve only shown a fraction of your hand. Maybe that’s not the _best_ way of dealing with family, but he’s had to grow up on the other end of someone who’s more socially aware, he figures this is just an evening of the scales in a way. 

Laura’s face softens a little at this. “Awww don’t think I’m gonna go all traditional on you now. We’re still gonna be Team Problem Child. And I’m going to need you to have my back when mom gets all stressy because _what will the neighbours think_!?” 

“You know mom doesn’t _really_ care what the neighbours think,” Tyler adds, because he’s a Mama’s Boy at heart and not ashamed to admit it. “She just has to _seem_ like she cares what they think so the Bridge Club won’t cannibalize us all for the sin of being New Money.” 

“The horror,” Laura agrees. “What about you Cammy? You okay?” 

Cameron looks up from where he’s been zoned out. “Yeah, yeah. You know me, I don’t turn off, thinking about class stuff. Midterms are next week.” 

Laura buys that without further interrogation, so maybe Cam is a better liar to the not-Tyler-Winklevoss segment of the population than he gives him credit for, and she goes up on her tip-toes to hug both of them once more before Hunter’s back and reminding her that they have a three hour drive to look forward to and they better get going. 

Cam is still unnervingly spaced out as they walk to the car, and Tyler’s not surprised when he tosses him the keys, “Shouldn’t have had that third glass. You got this?” 

“Sure,” Tyler says, and tries to take as much of his frustration with Cam as possible out on adjusting the seat— which, seriously why the _fuck_ does Cam have it pulled so far forward, they’re exactly the same height— so he won’t snap at him instead. They both jump when the car starts and the CD Cameron had put in for the drive over starts blaring, Cam immediately scrambling to turn it off. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Cameron says under his breath and that’s enough to tip Tyler from (absolutely justifiably) annoyed with him into concerned. Tyler’s not entirely sure what happened to him in that six and a half minutes before Cameron was born, but whatever big brother powers it imbued him with, they’re punching up through his gut right now telling him to _fix it_. And he has no idea _how_ because he’s tried being vague and he’s tried being aloof and he’s tried being patient and he’s tried being supportive, but maybe after all of that the thing he should have been trying was just being direct. 

“Cam,” Tyler says, eyes forward, hands gripped tight on the steering wheel. “Is there something you need to tell me?” 

He’s not looking at him head on, but he catches the quickest turn of Cam’s head as he gives him a darting sidelong glance, the bobbing of his throat as he swallows, clears this throat. 

_Just tell me._ Tyler thinks at him, loudly. _Just tell me and everything will be fine. Tell me and I can fix it._

“No,” Cam says finally. “Nope, not that I can think of.” 

“Cool,” Tyler says, lying right back, because apparently that’s what they do now. 

(One small mercy at least, when Tyler goes to return Cam’s tie the next day, the box of condoms is nowhere to be found.) 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“As long as it’s not another one about Eadweard Muybridge,” Divya says, not looking up from where he’s highlighting his notes. Tyler had offered up his dorm for a little pre-midterm cram sesh, but Divya had insisted on his favourite spot in Paine Hall, the music building, which did turn out to have spacious tables and lots of free outlets, but did feature overly loud packs of music students tromping through at regular intervals. A fair few of which greeted Divya by nod or by name. 

“No like, a personal question,” Tyler says, and then, lowering his voice, “A _gay_ question?” 

Divya stops highlighting but he doesn’t look up for a solid thirty seconds. “What kind of gay question?” 

“So uh, hypothetically. If I knew someone was gay and I wanted to, you know like, signal to them it was okay to tell me. How should I go about doing that?”

Divya seems to glitch for a second, his entire upper body freezing while his hand twitches wildly around his highlighter. “Sorry,” he says finally. “Run that by me again.” 

“So okay,” Tyler tries. “I think. I know this is kind of gauche but I think the only way I can explain this is in context.” 

So for the next several minutes, Divya sits there with an unchanging look of mild confusion while Tyler tries to put together the pieces he’s never spoken to anyone out loud before, about how he’s known that Cam is gay since high school and how he’s mostly sure that it’s an open secret between them, but how he’s never been able to make the jump from open secret to actually _out in the open_. 

“—And if _that_ weren’t enough,” Tyler says, “Cherry on top of this sundae, my brother went out and _got a boyfriend_ , so now I have to pretend I don’t know about _that_ because how could I know about _that_ when I’m not even supposed to know about him being gay in the first place.” 

He stops there, awkwardly and anticlimactically, because Divya’s face has suddenly shifted, eyebrows up at his hairline and mouth sagging open. “I’m—sorry. Give me a— _Why_ do you think it’s an open secret between you two that he’s gay?” 

“Okay so I’m not gonna say twin telepathy is real but, I’m not _not_ going to say that twin telepathy is—” 

“No. Stop,” Divya says, voice pitched low and serious. “If you brother has not _told_ you he is gay, he does not think you know.” 

“Okaaayy, but—” 

“No. Tyler, listen to me. You need to move forward under the assumption that he does not know that you know.” 

“Really,” he says. “Are you sure?” 

“Positive. One-hundred percent positive,” Divya lets out a harsh breath and leans back in his seat, and then says, voice changing tones entirely, “How did you— you suspect he’s seeing someone?”

Tyler flips his page of notes over, now that they’re getting into this there’s no need to pretend like he’s studying, “Yeah he definitely has been. Since the fall, it’s been a while.”

“I see,” Divya says. 

“Wait so, sorry going back,” Tyler says, because he needs to absolutely confirm this. “You really don’t think he knows that I know?” 

“I really don’t,” Divya says quickly, pushing his own notes aside. “But why do you— I mean, this boyfriend thing, how did you— I mean how did you figure that out?” 

“Oh, man,” Tyler says, stretching his arms behind his head, “I mean, a lot of little things I guess? Just being sort of shifty, double-checking whenever I’m going to be out of the dorm, weird mystery outings in his schedule, general demeanor of a guy who’s getting sex on the reg, that kind of thing. Oh and the condoms.” 

Divya blinks. “The condoms?” 

“Yeah, uh,” Tyler lowers his voice and leans forward as a pack of girls hauling french horn cases bustle through the lobby, “I found flavoured condoms in his room, and my brother’s not the kind of guy that would be buying something like that, _soooooo_.” 

“Mmm, hmmm,” Divya nods and pulls his notes back towards himself, scrambling for a highlighter. 

“I don’t even know if I _want_ to find out about this guy at this rate,” Tyler admits after what feels like a very long pause but was probably less than a minute. “Like it’s such a weirdo move. Who thinks flavoured condoms are a good idea? Right it’s like. If you’re gonna be kinky actually commit and be kinky. And even then just _get normal condoms_!” 

“Okay you have got to stop shouting ‘condoms,’ we’re in public,” Divya says, highlighter scraping loudly across the page, and when it seems fairly evident that he’s done talking about this, Tyler flips his notes back over and starts to go over them again. 

“I just don’t trust him, that’s all I’m saying,” he finishes weakly, reaching for his own pen.

Divya doesn’t look up. “Not to harsh your bold stance, but finding a minute reason to hate your brother’s boyfriend you haven’t even met isn’t a great look, Tyler.” 

“Whoa, no it’s not— it’s like an anti-gay thing,” Tyler says waving a hand. “I just. If he was a good guy wouldn’t he bring him around and just say they were friends? If he’s a not-sleazy upstanding citizen who just happens to have poor taste in sexual health products, why haven’t I met the guy?” 

“I,” Divya starts and sighs. “I don’t know, man. It’s complicated. When you’re in the closet everything you do is so calculated, and—I don’t think you should read it as a sign that he’s terrible. I think you should read it as a sign that your brother cares a lot about what you’re going to think.” 

“Wouldn’t it bother you if _your_ guy wouldn’t even introduce you to his closest, chillest family member?” 

“Well he hasn’t, soooo…” 

“So how do you not take that personally?” 

Divya gives a handwave shoulder roll combo. “I mean, I kinda do sometimes. But I just have to remind myself that it’s not. I mean, the first time we met he practically fell all over himself to get right up in my personal space and fix my tie. He made the first move, he obviously likes me, he shows me he does all the time. I just have to focus on all the things I _do_ get out of my relationship and not the things I don’t.” 

“So he’s in the closet but _he_ made a move on you?” 

“Yeah.” 

Tyler sighs. “Being gay sounds way too complicated.” 

“Don’t worry, we won’t even get into bisexuality until next year,” Divya says, patting him half-comfortingly half-patronizingly on the upper arm. “Seriously though. Stop taking it so personally. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.” 

Tyler chews at the inside of his mouth in annoyance because he knows Divya is probably _objectively_ right, but it doesn’t make him feel that much better that Cameron really thinks he might do anything that isn’t supporting him. He knows that being an adult means that sometimes recognizing that not everything is about him (“How does Tyler Winklevoss screw in a lightbulb? He stands in place and waits for the world to revolve around him”), but it doesn’t make it sting any less.

“Also, I mean—for the sake of argument,” Divya says abruptly, “Maybe, hypothetically, regarding the condoms, he didn’t have much choice when he bought them.” 

“I very much doubt every single kind of condom was sold out at CVS.” 

“No but, I mean, people have latex allergies and stuff. Plus, I mean, not to be graphic but…” Divya waves at hand vaguely at Tyler. 

“Huh?” 

“You’re identical twins, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“So. It’s gotta fit, bro.” 

Tyler considers this for a moment. “I guess that’s plausible.” 

“Damn right it’s plausible,” Divya mutters, mostly to himself. 

“I’ll try and keep an open mind about the guy,” Tyler acquiesces. “You know, if I ever actually get to meet him.” 

“Good,” Divya says. “That’s good.” 

“Damn, too bad you’re off the market,” Tyler says. “I’d love to do this over and set him up with someone I can trust. You think I’m handsome, right? You’d date a guy who looked like me, right?” 

Divya’s highlighting so intensely it’s a wonder the marker isn’t going straight through the paper. “No comment.” 

So in the grand scheme of things, while Tyler’s conversation with Divya had been absolutely illuminating on the subject of gay stuff, it had definitely come at the sacrifice of some marks on his midterm. Which means Tyler’s lounging in the window seat and checking over all of his extra credit options when Cam walks into their dorm, phone pressed to his ear. 

“—it was! It was,” Cameron says, voice uncharacteristically light as he comes into their living area, throwing his backpack onto a free chair. “I’m not saying it was like the spiciest thing ever but— _yes it was_! If it wasn’t then why would they have three little chili peppers on the menu beside it, hmmm?” 

He doesn’t glance over at Tyler at all before heading into his room, laughter echoing out from it as the light flicks on, “You’re such a jerk, see if I take you anywhere ever again after all the slander I’m getting,” Cam says. “Yes I would. I totally _would_.” 

Tyler remembers back when Laura started dating Tomas, and the first time he ever heard her talking to him in Icelandic was when they were driving him and Cameron to the airport when they’d squeezed in a two-day trip after World Juniors. The same playful flirtatious lilt in her voice as she teased him that Cam’s doing now, completely oblivious that Tyler’s in the other room to hear it. Only this time Tyler doesn’t get to look over at Cam, crushed beside him in the tiny backseat of Tomas’s car, knowing that they were on their own secret thing too. 

Only they weren’t with this one. They never were. 

It’s the realization that Tyler knows now he was avoiding, that all of his frustration and annoyance with Cameron at the end of the day have very little to do with him being gay, or even him having a boyfriend, but just that he _misses_ him. Misses being the two of them against the world. And now the feeling is concaving his chest like too much snow on a roof, like all his muscles screaming out in defeat the moment they’re over the finish line, the way he can ignore it and ignore it and ignore it until he _can’t_ anymore. 

He’s trying to breathe through it when Cam comes back into their slapdash living room, jacket gone and phone still pressed to his ear. He starts a little when he sees Tyler sitting there, but his face shifts almost immediately from shock to concern. Cameron presses the bottom of his phone into his neck. “Are you okay?” he mouths more than says, and all Tyler can manage is a half-hearted shrug in return. 

“Hey sorry can I call you back?” Cameron says, and then after a pause, “Yeah, yeah everything’s— no yeah we’re fine for— mhmm. Okay. I’ll call you back.” 

Tyler rubs a self-indulgent hand over his face and waits until Cameron puts his phone down, the pain in his chest already starting to guiltily subside in the spotlight of Cam’s attention. 

“What’s up?” 

“I fucked up the essay portion of my film midterm,” Tyler says, because like hell he’s going to open the entire bait shop of worms that would be saying anything else. And it’s not entirely a lie either, so that’s a compromise they can all live with. 

Cam groans sympathetically, having had his own academic debacle earlier that semester when he had to go over a TAs head to his professor when something was marked late incorrectly, “That sucks. Extra credit?” 

“Yeah already on it,” Tyler says, gesturing with his syllabus, “There’s a student short film thing tonight actually that you get points for just showing up. So I’ll do that and see where I’m sitting.” 

“That’s smart, Ty.” 

Tyler kicks at him half-heartedly. “I’m known to do that every once in a while.” 

“Yeah, no pity party for you Mr. Salutatorian,” Cam says crossing over to their little makeshift kitchenette and wordlessly starting to pull out all the ingredients for a smoothie, because Cam’s love is often thrown into a blender and pulverized until smooth. 

“You know, it is kind of weird that there’s no title for the third-ranked person.” 

“Alright, leave me alone.” 

“No I’m serious,” Tyler grins, tipping his head back on the couch so he can look at Cam. “Like why did they say number one, special title, number two, special title, number three? Go fuck yourself I guess.” 

“Well I’m going to take it as a slight to me personally, absolutely,” Cameron says, and hits the pulse button on the blender when Tyler tries to make another crack about it. 

“You know,” Tyler says when he’s a few sips into his smoothie, “You could come with me. To the short film thing, if you wanted. It starts at five so we could still probably be in the tank by seven-thirty.” 

“Oh,” Cam says, face softening like when their mom leaves butter out on the counter for baking.

“It’s cool if you have stuff, I just thought….” he trails off, waves a vague hand. He’s honestly not expecting Cam to agree to it, if only because Cam’s taste in movies is aggressively blockbuster and a student short film night sort of sounds like his own circle of hell, (meanwhile Tyler doesn’t deem anything with less than a SAG nomination worthy of his time and cleans up every year during the betting pool at Michael Bodrocker’s Oscar party), but it feels nice to ask. 

“I—” Cam says hesitantly darting a very un-subtly glance over at his phone, “Actually, yeah. Sure, I’ll come. Let me just rejig something first.” 

It’s maybe not a _good_ thing how much Tyler’s heart goes jumping around victoriously in his chest, a neglected puppy waiting around all day for its person, but he’s never claimed to be a saint. Cam’s boyfriend can take a number on this one, Tyler’s getting top priority for a while. 

Damn maybe there was some logic behind this whole _expressing his feelings openly_ schtick. 

“Well that was. Interesting,” Cam says a few hours later when Tyler’s professor is done thanking the various up-and-coming filmmakers of Harvard University for sharing their work and sending everyone off with a lukewarm round of applause. 

“You hated it,” Tyler says, immensely pleased. 

“No, no, I mean—that one about the uh, Sorority murder was. You know. Making a comment about Greek life.”

“And did you _like_ that about it?” 

Cameron glares at him, bundling his coat over his arm. “I’m trying not to undermine other people’s hard work.” 

“There, there, you’re a very nice person, now let’s leave before any aspiring filmmakers try and talk to us about their directorial inspirations,” he says steering Cam out of their row by the shoulders. “Spoiler alert, it’s always Fincher.” 

After a quick check-in with his prof to make sure his credit points are going to be counted, Tyler’s already got his mind on dinner when he spots a familiar figure across the lobby. Divya’s leaning up beside the sparse refreshment table, chatting animatedly with a guy picking over the dregs of the pastries, giving one a suspicious sniff before biting into it. He makes a face and Divya takes it from his friend’s hand, takes a bite and shrugs before putting the rest of it in his mouth. 

It’s a very cozy scene, which is what makes it hit Tyler suddenly, like a freight train running five minutes behind schedule that _duh_ it’s not Divya’s _friend_ that he’s with, it’s definitely his boyfriend. Tyler darts a covert glance at Cam, who’s looking at his phone, somehow having missed this amazing moment of gay solidarity, so Tyler decides to take this mission into his own hands. Because really, what better way could he show Cameron that he’s gonna be in fact the best person to come out to than by flexing his gay friend. 

“Hey!” Tyler calls, waving his arm over his head, “Divya!” 

Beside him Cameron fumbles and drops his phone, and he must have been louder than he realized because Divya startles too, whipping around and then doing a second double take which makes Tyler laugh a little. Maybe it’s not the most gentlemanly instinct but he’s always loved the reaction he and Cam get when someone sees them together for the first time, that look of _oh shit there’s TWO of them_ , and Divya does not disappoint at all. 

“How—?” Cameron says, having recovered his phone from the ground and having gone into Best Behaviour Mode, back ramrod straight as Divya starts to approach cautiously, “How do you know him?” 

“We’re in my film class together,” Tyler says. 

“Your film class?” Cam repeats unnecessarily, so Tyler ignores him. 

“Div, hey man, this is my brother,” Tyler says. “This is Cameron.” 

Divya’s eyes dart between them, “Uh, hi.” 

“Hello,” Cam says, foregoing his usual small town mayor routine of a firm handshake and his full name. 

“Who’s your friend?” Tyler asks, trying to communicate his request telepathically. 

“Oh, um, yeah,” Divya turns over his shoulder, “Takumi? Come say hi.” 

Takumi hesitates, so Tyler tries to look as nonthreatening as possible, giving a little half wave which seems to do _something_ because he does start cautiously making his way over. 

“Hey man,” Tyler says, sticking out a hand, “Nice to meet you.” 

“Yeah, hey, uh, Tyler right?” Takumi says. 

“Guilty as charged, and this is Cameron—” 

“—Hey uh, Takumi actually has a class he needs to get to,” Divya interrupts, voice the tight kind of cheerful that’s stretched over annoyance. 

“Wha—oh! Yeah, yeah, Class. You know how it is,” Takumi says, shoulders scrunching up under his coat. 

“Ahh, too bad, I was gonna ask if you guys wanted to grab some dinner with us.” 

“Oh, that’s uh, that’s nice of you but I don’t wanna intrude…” 

“No, no,” Cameron says suddenly, like his small town mayor programming just rebooted, “I insist. I mean, you don’t have dinner plans do you?” 

“No, actually,” Divya says, “My dinner plans were abruptly cancelled.” 

Tyler tries to look at Cam out of the corner of his eye without having to look at him directly. Something’s not quite _right_ but he has no idea what. Unless gaydar is way more powerful than _Sex and the City_ made it out to be and Cameron is….what exactly? 

“Maybe we could check out that new Cajun place, I have a source who told me it’s excellent.” 

“That’s pretty far away,” Divya says, crossing his arms.

“I have my car, we’ll swing by the dorm, that’s not a problem for you is it Ty?” 

“I mean I guess not,” Tyler asks, “But it might take a while. Didn’t you want to hit the tank after?” 

Cameron shrugs, thousands of dollars of orthodontic work gleaming perfectly white when he smiles, all teeth, “I think we can skip a night.” 

Which. That’s _definitely_ something. 

Tyler bids Takumi off with an enthusiastic handshake, and mentally apologizes to him for wishing Divya was single so he could date Cam instead. He seems like a sweet guy, if a bit easily startled. 

Cameron and Divya are both pretty quiet on the walk back to their dorm, but a brutal March wind is whipping through campus and Tyler’s using most of his energy to stay warm, so he doesn’t really notice how weird it is until they’re tromping up the dorm stairs and neither of them have said a word. Especially because Cameron’s usually the small talk maestro. Tyler once watched him make conversation in Spanish with a woman at the airport for forty-five minutes in spite of the fact that Cam only speaks about ten words of Spanish. 

“Takumi seems great Divya,” Tyler tries, because that’s what supportive friends do when they meet their friends’ significant others, “I really liked him.” 

“Yeah Takumi,” Divya replies behind him. “He’s my roommate, he’s great.” 

Tyler’s not sure if roommate is gay code or if they also live together, so he just _mhmm_ s enthusiastically as Cam gets the door to their room open, still suspiciously quiet. Tyler’s just going to chalk it up to him being a little hangry and not wanting to look like a dick in front of a new person, especially when he insisted Divya come with them. 

This suspicion is almost immediately confirmed when Divya says, “Wow, this is a pretty big double,” and Cameron scoffs on his way to his room.

“Ahh shit,” Tyler says, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check the time and instead being greeted with four missed calls from Laura. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Not sure, Laura called me a bunch of times. Here, lemme just call her back real quick, entertain each other for me, will ya?” 

“But—” Cam starts. 

“Sure, okay,” Divya agrees as Tyler shoves one of his running shoes into the door to keep it slightly propped as he redials Laura’s number. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey it’s me. Where’s the fire?” he asks, stepping into the stairwell so his entire hall won’t overhear his conversation. 

“Oh hey Ty,” Laura says. “It’s nothing major. Mom just wanted to know if you think Cam would want like, a date referral?” 

“Uh, pardon?” 

Laura laughs. “I’m giving you guys plus-ones for the wedding and I figured you’d be fine snagging a date but we know Cammy’s a little more—”

Tyler hears the indistinct voice of his mom in the background and Laura laughs. 

“Yeah exactly, he’s _picky_. Mom said she’d be willing to, you know, ask around, see who’s single. But I know sometimes he gets weird about stuff like that, so I thought I’d consult the expert.” 

“Uh, yeah Laura, tell mom that’s a bad idea,” Tyler says. “Cam hates stuff like that.” He probably will get stressed out at the very idea of having a plus-one, even if his mystery boyfriend weren’t in the picture, but there’s no way he can tell Laura that in a manner that won’t just beget more questions. 

Laura seems generally unfazed, however. “Alright, no biggie. I’ll let you get back to college-ing it up or whatever.” 

“Love you, tell mom I said hi.” 

“Mama’s boy,” Laura says. “Give Cam a kiss for me.” 

“Somehow I don’t think it’ll be the same from me,” Tyler says, and Laura’s still laughing when he hangs up. 

Crisis averted, he’s feeling more optimistic about being able to get Divya and Cameron to realize they could be fast friends, especially when he can already hear them talking through the propped open door, but he hesitates when he catches Cam’s tone, icy and harsh. 

“—Cannot _believe_ that you would—” 

“—It’s like you actually think I’m an idiot,” Divya says, his tone equally sharp. “It’s not my fault Tyler’s on a crusade to befriend anyone who—” 

“—You didn’t have to help! You didn’t have to—” 

“—What do you think I did? Walked up and was like ‘Oh hi Tyler, nice to meet you since you’re always at class when I’m at your dorm _fucking your brother_.’” 

“Shut up!” Cameron hisses. “Just shut up, Divya.” 

Tyler’s heart is _pounding_ in his chest as he shoves the propped door the rest of the way open, both Cameron and Divya swinging towards the sound, wide-eyed and caught. 

“Tyler—” Cameron starts. 

“I cannot believe you,” Tyler says, trying to glare at both of them without darting his eyes back and forth between them like a cartoon. “You’re—” 

“—Ty—” Cam tries again, but he plows forward. 

“—You’re _cheating on your boyfriends_!? What the fuck!” 

“I—” Cam says, face going bright red while Divya’s jaw is trying to make fast friends with the floor, “You’re— you’re right, I don’t know what we were thinking.” 

“ _Cameron_ ,” Divya says, and it’s a tone of voice so familiar to Tyler, that everything lurches to the side so suddenly it’s a miracle he doesn’t get seasick. 

“Oh my god,” Tyler says, revelation hitting him like a bad hangover, mirrored perfectly in Cameron’s face. “Holy fuck, _Divya’s_ your boyfriend!?”

“I—” Cam says. 

“ _You’re the freak with the flavoured condoms_!” 

“I have a latex allergy! It was all they had!” 

Tyler’s only half listening, trying to steer into the skid, pieces flying back at him faster than he can put them together,“Wait, so who the fuck was Takumi!?” 

“What do you mean who’s Takumi? He’s my roommate, I told you he was my roommate!” 

Tyler scoffs. “I thought it was gay code.” 

“There’s no such thing as gay code Tyler.” 

Tyler ignores him. “Oh my god, Have you guys just been fucking with me this whole time? Get me to invite you to dinner? Was that the _plan_!?” 

“I—” Cam says again, and makes a noise that sounds more like a car engine dying than something that might come out of a person. 

“Cam, hey, hey, c’mon, sit down,” Divya says, annoyance melting as he turns his attention to Cameron, man-handling him with an ease that makes Tyler’s stomach hurt, and gets him into a chair. “Tyler, tell him. Tell him you knew.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Tyler says, kicking his shoe clear of the door because like hell he’s giving anyone a free show. “You’re a sick fuck, you know that?” 

“You know what, we can talk all day long about what I did, but right now could you please tell your brother that you managed to Nancy Drew this together so he won’t keel over in the next thirty seconds.” 

“Well yeah I knew he was gay, but—” 

Cameron’s head snaps up at that, and Tyler gives him a wordless shrug and head tilt.

“Since when?” 

“Uhhh, when did we go to Martha’s Vineyard with dad’s friend? The lawyer?” 

“Summer before tenth grade,” Cam says. “Jesus fucking Christ.” 

“ _This_ is why I kept telling you, you could tell him,” Divya says to Cam, running a frantic hand through his own hair. “He knew we were dating. Or well, obviously he didn’t know _we_ were dating, but—” 

Cam blanches even further, “You knew I had a—I was seeing someone.”

Tyler shrugs. “No offense but you’re not a very good liar.” 

Cam laughs, but it catches the edges of his throat like a sob. “Noted.” 

He’s still trying to put the pieces together, rearranging them to try and make them fit, running back over everything that happened when he called Divya over less than an hour ago. “So you— Cam, you weren’t in on this.” He wags a finger between himself and Divya, who has his arm draped over the back of Cameron’s chair. 

“No,” Cam says stonily, “I was not. I was under the impression that we were on the same page about waiting until I was ready to tell him _._ ” 

Tyler very politely does not point out that he already knew, because Cam’s got that horrible hollowed out look he gets sometimes and it’s taking a lot of Tyler’s self-restraint to not go over and shove Divya away from his brother. 

“Cam,” Divya says, kneeling beside him, Cameron turning his face haughtily and refusing to look Divya in the face, “You have every right to be mad at me. Okay? I went behind your back and broke your trust and I’m so, so sorry for that. But—Cam I was _scared_. Do you have any idea how terrifying the idea of meeting your identical twin brother as your boyfriend is? He literally knew _one_ thing about me and decided he didn’t trust me. So yeah I thought _maybe_ if I could just be this random guy in his class he had a few polite interactions with he wouldn’t be so hostile when the penny dropped. That he would maybe be happy for you.” 

Divya rubs at his face. “But I’m an idiot who didn’t account for the Tyler Winklevoss of it all and I mean— he _wanted_ to be my friend, he actively pursued it. What was I supposed to do?” 

“Maybe not lie to both of us, for starters,” Tyler points out. 

Cameron’s still blinking dazedly in his chair, “I don’t— how did you even figure out what class he was in?” 

“Uh, there’s this app called CourseMatch, you can look up what classes people are taking and—” 

“Stop, just stop talking dude.” Tyler says. “You’re not helping. And honestly kind of feeling like my instincts were right about your boyfriend Cameron. Not a fan.” 

“Yeah I’m not feeling so hot about it right now either,” Cam says which makes the protective (six and a half minutes) older brother part of him that Tyler’s been trying to hold back flare to life. 

“Okay, you need to go,” Tyler says and Divya blinks skeptically at him. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You need to leave,” Tyler repeats, a little firmer. “Right now.” 

“I’m not going to leave when Cam’s like this,” Divya says. 

“You _being here_ is what’s making Cam like this.” 

“Div,” Cameron says, face a wreck but voice shockingly steady, “Can you please just go?” 

“I—” Divya says, hurt flashing so quickly to anger and back, “Are you serious?” 

“Please.” 

“We have to talk about this— I can’t just. Cam, you can be mad, you can fucking hate me I don’t care, but we can’t just— we can’t just leave it!” 

“Divya.” 

“Dude,” Tyler says, “Go home.” 

It’s like something inside Divya that was keeping him held taut snaps, falling into himself like a marionette, and Tyler would feel bad for him if his anger weren’t the only thing holding him together right now. 

“Look, I’m going to leave my ringer on. Wake me up, I don’t care. Just call me, okay? Please.” 

Cameron doesn’t say anything, finally starting to unfold himself into the picture of polite cold detachment. 

“We’ll see,” Cameron says and then Divya’s gone, brushing past Tyler and out the door like he’s just remembered he left something in the oven.

“And stay out,” Tyler mutters under his breath and he feels better for all of ten seconds before the crushing reality of him and Cameron being alone with each other, all their dirty laundry strewn across the space between them. 

“So—” Tyler starts, but Cam’s already on his feet, turning away from him. 

“I’m going to go for a run,” he says, “if we’re not getting to the tank might as well make up that time with some cardio.” 

So it’s this then, Cameron forcing a return to the status quo, trying to make everything normal by pretending it’s normal, nevermind the fact that it was never normal to begin with. 

“Have fun,” Tyler says, and slams the door to his room shut so he doesn’t have to watch Cam leave. 

Two days later things have only superficially improved, and Tyler is more stressed about seeing Divya later in class than he is about their 2k Erg Test at practice as he and Cam make their way across the dark campus to the boathouse. 

Cam’s usually quiet and focused before any 2k, but there’s a sullen edge to his silence that’s not usually there. After their tag team attack with Divya the other night it had been an unpleasant realization for both of them the next morning when they’d been left with each other to be annoyed at. Tyler had taken the very mature route of ignoring Cameron, or at least as much as he could ignore someone who he lives with and spends six hours a day training with. Not that Cam had seemed to mind much since he’d been doing his best _Look How Engrossed I Am In What I’m Doing I’m Not Even Paying Attention To You_ routine. 

So it’s a little jarring when out of nowhere Cam says, “What did Laura call you about?” 

“What? Oh. That. She wanted to know if you wanted mom to set you up with someone.” 

“Set me up?” Cam repeats. 

“For the wedding, we’re getting plus-ones,” Tyler says. “I told her not to. Obviously.” 

“Are you going to bring someone?” Cam says, shoving his hands further into his coat pockets. 

“I don’t know. Maybe.” 

Cam scoffs and increases his pace just slightly so Tyler has to pick it up not to get left behind. “Should I have said yes? It didn’t really strike me as something you wanted.” 

“No I don’t—That’s not the point Ty.” 

“Okay, enlighten me then,” Tyler says, “Cause I don’t get what your deal is.” 

Tyler can tell that Cam’s annoyed that he doesn’t seem to be picking up any of the unspoken parts of this conversation. That’s always the hardest part when they fight, the ways in which they don't align, can’t read each other. It’s not that being able to practically read each other’s minds is _easy_ , they’ve just had enough practice to make it look effortless.

“It sets a precedent,” Cam works out finally. “If I bring a girl to the wedding that’s. It’s a suggestion to everyone that maybe I actually _will_ come home with a nice girl one of these days. Especially after _Laura_ decided to settle down, because if even Laura can do the standard happily ever after eventually what’s my excuse?”

Tyler counters. “You don’t have to bring _anyone_ at all if you really don’t want to, Cam, you gotta relax.” 

“Well that’s not really an option if you bring someone,” Cam snaps. “I can’t exactly say I’m too busy to date if you managed to get some eligible bachelorette to come with you.” 

“Are you seriously mad at me?” Tyler says, laughing incredulously when Cam responds by not responding. “Wow, okay, sorry I didn’t realize I needed to make sure _my_ dating life was revolving around Planet Cam. Not even my real dating life jesus, my _hypothetical_ wedding date dating life.” 

“I’m just saying you could have _asked_ me and—” 

“Oh what like you asked me before you went out and got a boyfriend!?” Tyler snaps, “Who you _could bring to the wedding_ by the way. Laura would probably be thrilled.” 

“You want me to come out, that’s your brilliant solution to this?” Cam says. 

Tyler chews at the inside of his cheek, like he’s eating something he doesn’t particularly like. “I just think it’s kind of a big fucking ask for you to act like I’m just supposed to put my love life on hold until you figure out whatever you’re doing. That’s all I’m saying.” 

“Okay whatever, bring whoever you want to the wedding,” Cam says, 

“You don’t have to be a dick about it.” 

“I’m not being a dick about it, I just said it was fine,” Cam snaps back. “Besides I don’t think this thing with me and Divya is really going anywhere anymore.” 

Tyler doesn’t really mean to but his brain stops talking to his legs for a split second and he comes to an awkward grinding halt. “What?” 

Cam huffs and doesn’t stop, “Look, I wasn’t even going to do this whole, dating thing in the first place. And I let myself get talked into it and clearly I’m—It’s better for both of us if I just end things.” 

“Dude, what the fuck are you talking about?” Tyler splutters, half jogging to catch up. “Are you really going to just quit 500 metres in because it got a little hard?” 

“Why are you defending him? He lied to you too.” 

“I mean, yeah but. Barely.” This was something Tyler had been running back over yesterday, how many innocuous little things he should have picked up on that were, in hindsight, huge red flags that Divya was the boyfriend in question. But it had also made Tyler realize how little Divya had _actually_ lied to him when it came down to it, and maybe he was a chump, but he wanted to read something positive into that. That maybe Divya really _hadn’t_ wanted to be lying to him but couldn’t exactly turn around and tell him the truth without betraying Cam. 

“Barely?” 

“Well yeah, I mean he lied about the really big obvious thing, but he also didn’t lie about a lot of other stuff that he could have.” 

“Like what?” 

“Well for starters that he kind of cheated on his rebound guy because he was so head over heels for this Dream Guy who showed up crying at his doorstep.” 

“Okay, there was no crying and there was no cheating,” Cam says, and then softer, “Is that really what he said?” 

“The phrase ‘Dream Guy’ is burned into my auditory cortex.” 

“Christ,” Cam says, rubbing his face, but he sounds a tiny bit pleased. “This wasn’t supposed to happen you know.” 

“Your boyfriend long-conning me _wasn’t_ part of the plan?” 

“No I mean—” Cam tries again, hand tightening on the strap of his duffel bag, “It was just supposed to be something casual. I only do casual. He wanted more, I said I couldn’t do that. I thought that would be the end of it.” 

“But…?” Tyler prompts.

“I don’t know what it is about him. It’s not logical, he’s just some _guy_. I tried to move on, we’re busy enough, it should have been easy but I just. I kept circling back around to him you know? I thought I’d regret it forever if I didn’t at least _see_ what it was like,” Cam pauses thoughtfully, tone going from fond to aloof. “And what it was like was everything blowing up in my face. So. I guess my instincts were right.” 

“Well sure,” Tyler says, “But, I mean, it’s not like Divya can do it _again_ , unless there’s a secret triplet I don’t know about.” 

“Oh damn, did mom and dad not tell you about Carter?” 

“Shut up, you know what I mean,” Tyler shoves Cameron with his shoulder, glad they’re walking at a pace that allows him to do that in the first place. “And look, for the record, I will support you in whatever you want to do. If it’s really over I will gladly drive getaway so you can egg his dorm. But, if you care about my opinion, I like Divya. I don’t want you guys to break up over this, because frankly Cam, I don’t know where you’re going to find another guy who likes you enough to go through the humiliating ordeal of buying flavoured condoms _and_ keeps those pens you like on his person at all times.” 

“Of course I care about your opinion, why do you think—why do you think it was so hard for me to tell you?” Cam says, and it’s a sweet moment hanging in the cold pre-dawn air between them before Cam is suddenly shoving him back, “Also, I _knew_ you were going through my shit! Now please never mention what you found in my drawer ever again or I’m going to have to write you out of my will.” 

“That’s fair,” he agrees, because Tyler’s also planning to look into brain bleaching as soon as possible. Apparently there are actually some things about Cam he doesn’t need to know. 

“You’ve really known since Martha’s Vineyard?” 

“Yeah, you’re not slick.” 

“Christ,” Cam says. 

“Were you going to tell me, like, ever?” Tyler asks, already preparing himself for a less than ideal answer. 

Cameron’s quiet for a long time before he admits sheepishly, “I didn’t think I was going to need to.” 

Tyler frowns, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I always— I mean I guess I just figured that you’d figure it out and I’d. I’d know you had because you’d be different,” Cam’s shoulders are starting to migrate up by his ears. “I didn’t know you knew because you never really changed and...I never thought I would get that.” 

“ _Cam_ ,” Tyler says, “you’re such an idiot.” 

“I know, I know,” he says, but his voice is all liquid and he doesn’t resist at all when Tyler pulls him into a hug in the middle of the sidewalk. 

They’re quiet the rest of the way to the boathouse but it’s a different kind of silence, and Tyler doesn’t half mind now that everything else feels at least semi-settled, so he can turn his full attention to his 2k strategy. Cam splits off in the locker room and Tyler exchanges nods and back slaps with the rest of the guys before pulling open his locker to dump his coat. Beside him, Michael Bodrocker, whose level of stress and anxiety about Erg Tests is truly unmatched, is staring blankly into his own locker and Tyler gives him what he hopes is a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. 

“Alright gents,” Robby, the assistant coach says, sticking his head into the room. “Let's get this show on the road, we’re drawing slots in five.” 

“Oh god,” Michael moans, all 6’7” of him shaking and clammy. 

“There, there, maybe you’ll be in the first round and get to get it over with.”

Tyler gives one last adjustment of his headband before throwing an arm around Michael and guiding him out of the locker room. 

In high school they used to do Erg Tests one at a time, which Tyler always loved because having an entire team cheering him on usually did wonders for his last 500 metres, but he’ll survive with only half of the team since Coach splits them off into two groups. 

Cam’s breathing deeply like he’s discovered the secret to sleeping upright beside him, so he startles right into Tyler when the door on the far end of the boathouse suddenly bangs open. 

“The fuck?” Robby says, the cup they just drew slots from still in hand, “Hey dude this is a closed practice.” 

“Yeah—sorry—” Divya gasps out, sounding like he just ran all the way across campus. Which, if the winter coat thrown hastily over a ratty old band shirt and pyjama pants are any indication, he probably did. “I just— _Cameron_ — inhaler?” 

He holds out what Tyler can’t really see very well but knows by the rough size and shape of it is Cam’s rescue inhaler, which he’d started bringing to practice after a nasty bout of bronchitis the year before. (And apparently had kept his spare on hand for...other aerobic activities.) 

“Oh, uh, okay. Cameron?” Robby says gesturing with his clipboard, “You got this?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Cam says, but he sounds a little bit dazed as Divya walks over, still breathing heavily. 

“I knew you had— had your Erg Test— sorry one second,” Divya says, and then bends over at the waist and clutches his knees, gasping for a minute before his breathing settles out, “Oh my god. Sorry. See this is why I’m quitting smoking, my lungs hate me so much right now. But I knew you had your test and I thought you might need your inhaler.” 

“I have another one,” Cam says awkwardly, holding up his other rescue inhaler, “That’s my backup one.” 

“Oh,” Divya says, still breathing heavily, “Okay well uh. Good. Awesome. That’s— Okay. I guess I’ll just, um, see myself out.” 

Cameron nods, still looking a little startled as Divya gives a curt nod to Robby and power walks back out the entrance he’d burst in. 

“ _Cameron_ ,” Tyler says when it’s very apparent Cam isn’t planning on doing anything. 

“What?” 

“Hello, what are you doing? Go fix it.” 

“I don’t—I think he was just being nice,” Cam says a little helplessly. 

“If someone _runs through the airport_ for you, do you _get on the plane_!?” 

“Shit. Really?” 

How this boy got into Harvard, Tyler genuinely sometimes does not know. “Here switch with me, I’m gonna be near the end.” 

Cam’s hand is a little sweaty when Tyler shoves the chip into it and takes Cam’s own, his zen long, long gone. 

“Wait, who was that guy?” Michael Bodrocker says, having snapped out of his pre-test anxiety long enough to finally register what just happened. 

Tyler’s ready to cover, but he doesn’t have to, Cameron taking a deep breath, and centring himself before declaring, “That’s my best friend and you’ll probably be seeing a lot more of him.” Then after double-checking that Robby and Coach have their attention elsewhere, he turns and books it out the side entrance.

“Oh, cool,” Michael says, and then doubles over and throws up all over the floor. 

The great thing about being a varsity athlete is that even after seeing someone toss their cookies all over the floor, all Tyler can think about for the back half of practice is getting to the dining hall and plowing through his body weight in scrambled eggs. Michael, despite being the tosser of said cookies, seems equally on board with this plan, looking significantly less pathetic now that his 2k is over. 

Tyler is somehow blindsided without being surprised when Divya shows up at Cameron’s favourite table in the PfoHo dining hall, a copy of the Crimson tucked under his arm and a tray filled with what was probably a very large breakfast for the average not athletically inclined person. 

“What the hell is this,” he says, gesturing as well as someone can with their hands full, “This is a four person table, you jocks just think you just own the place?” 

“I love when he gets grumpy,” Tyler says, shoving his own stuff over lazily, “It’s like when one of those small white yappy dogs wants to fight.” 

“Not white, average height, this metaphor sucks,” Divya mutters.

“My grandma has one of those dogs, they’re mean little fuckers,” Michael says, and then cocking a head at Divya, “Hi, sorry, what was your name again?” 

“This is Divya,” Cam says, “Div, this is Michael, we row together.” 

“Michael Bodrocker, yeah, yeah,” he says nodding, “I hear you also throw a banging Oscar’s party.” 

“It’s alright,” Cam says, taking a sip of his juice. 

Tyler jabs his fork at him, “You’re just bitter because you got dead last on the Oscar pool.” 

“Honestly it was almost impressive,” Michael says placatingly. “Like, there’s a skill in getting everything wrong.” 

“Yeah mathematically speaking you should have got at least _something_ right, and logically speaking you should have just copied off of Tyler,” Divya says, pen scratching its way through a crossword. 

“Fifty-two down is Eco, like Umberto Eco,” Cam points out. 

“Oh my god we get it, you _read_ ,” Tyler says, but he has to admit he’s impressed when Cameron manages to snag the pen Divya throws at him right out of the air. 

“Oh nice, I love this kind.” 

“I know you do,” Divya says, and come _on_ gentlemen at least try and be subtle. Not that Michael seems to notice this bizarre scene of courtship, his attention fixed on shovelling pancakes into his mouth with gusto. 

“So wait,” Michael says when he goes for more syrup, “How do you guys know each other?” 

Tyler looks at Cam, once again prepared to save his ass when he freezes up, but Cam, just like he had in the boathouse, seems uncharacteristically fine with this inquiry, giving a shrug so unconcerned he must have practiced it at some point beforehand, “Oh we met at an Owl Club party, Divya band was playing and I came over to say hey afterwards and we just got talking—”

“—That’s so not what happened,” Divya cuts in. “No what happened was, I’m coming off a set at this party, and yeah like, we all know Owl Club is pretty fratty but I figure you know, a final club is a final club, I’m gonna schmooze while I can. So I go to change so I can blend in a little easier but here comes Mr. All-American here,” he slaps Cameron on the knee the same way people slap the side of a beloved sailboat, a certain kind of ownership pride, “to let me know _my tie is a little wonky_ and _would I like a hand with that_.” 

“I was trying to help!” Cam protests while Tyler tries very hard to give off the air of someone who’s heard this before and isn’t just nowfinding out that Divya is in a _band_ what the hell, how the hell is Tyler supposed to rein supreme as the cool one in the face of this? 

“Yeah calling me out in front of everyone, it was very helpful,” Divya says, but he’s grinning like this is his favourite story in the world, and Tyler wonders belatedly how much he gets to tell it. “And then Tyler and I had a class together this semester, and well, not hard to put two and two together with these guys.” 

“I didn’t even know they had bands at those kinds of parties,” Michael says thoughtfully, “I always kind of thought final club parties were just for people to do cocaine off of silver spoons and shit. I mean, uh, no offense guys.”

Tyler shrugs, “The Porc doesn’t have parties, so. None taken.” 

“And rest assured if they did those spoons would be _gold_ ,” Divya adds, “Nothing but the best for these special boys.” 

The conversation kind of devolves from there, Divya and Michael getting into a surprisingly passionate sidebar about the relative merits of different music venues in The City in that capitalized way people from the Tristate area tend to talk about New York. Which makes sense, what with Michael repping New Jersey they have a full card punched at this table alone. But since Tyler doesn’t have any dogs to throw into this particular fight (not even a small white yappy one) he contents himself with studying Cameron, a little push and pull on the old twin radar. 

Maybe it’s kind of selfish to only now appreciate that it was true what Divya said about Cam keeping his dating life a secret not being much of a value judgment on Tyler at all. But sometimes that’s a perspective gained a little easier on the other side of a secret, that it wasn’t particularly personal to begin with. 

And it makes him feel slightly less stupid about the whole ordeal when he sees how seamlessly Cam and Divya excuse themselves from breakfast with very little indication that they’re off to Divya’s dorm to have make-up sex. Though of course, it is blatantly obvious to _Tyler_ that they’re off to Divya’s dorm to have make-up sex. 

“Give my best to Takumi,” Tyler says. 

“I’ll pass it on when I see him. Shockingly you did manage to make a great impression on him, given the circumstances,” Divya says, snagging the last of Cam’s juice.

“We’ll have to swap notes sometime.” 

“Ha. No,” Divya says, and then is throwing his coat over his arm and leading Cameron off by the elbow, Cam skirting a private little pleased glance at Tyler over his shoulder. Honestly he should start charging for his services, both in the romance and secret-keeping departments, both of which involve his incredible poker face. 

Or maybe not based on the way he jumps when Michael Bodrocker says, “Cam’s boyfriend seems awesome. It’s really cool that you guys all get along.”

“Uhhhhhhhhh,” Tyler says extremely eloquently, because _how the fuck_. “That’s. That’s a secret. Please do not even insinuate to Cam that you know that.” 

“Well yeah, duh, I have _some_ tact,” Michael turns back to the remains of his pancakes with a dejected little sigh. “You’re just so lucky, my sister’s girlfriends always hate me.” 

“Oh, yeah, that’s me, luckiest guy in the world,” Tyler says, letting his head land on the table with a thud. 

He’s changed his mind, being on the other side of a secret sucks ass. Viva la ignorant bliss. 

**Author's Note:**

> Much love and gratitude to my beta duo and Tyler Winklevoss enthusiasts youshallnotfinditso and evol_love who as always are like 85% responsible for anything I write seeing the light of day. 
> 
> Also to the many very sweet people who have reached out recently and told me they enjoy my fics, it means genuinely more than you can know. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr where I am also phonecallfromgod.


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